Kaas City Nights
by Poeki
Summary: Adventures, misadventures and thoughts of my RP character in SWTOR. Limited appearance of canon characters and/or story elements since this is mostly based off RP I did within the world. Comments and critiques very welcome!
1. Chapter 1

_"Observer report. Protocol xix dash i. Location: The Nexus Room Cantina."  
_  
Long fingers steepling, the man leans forward; his wiry frame clothed in elegance, stern, angular features betraying no emotion. With an electronic buzz and the faint clicking of camera lenses adjusting an image on the screen flickers into existence, showing the interior of Kaas City's main locale on a busy night. The droid's impassive monotone continues.

_"Target acquired at 20 hours."  
_  
The screen centers on the image of a slim, pale girl in dark robes entering the cantina, a mass of dark curls tied at her nape. Half-lidded eyes follow the figure's halting advance through the crowd towards a lone table.

"Ahh, isn't she a peach, our little bird?", he breathes, his speech slow, deliberate, dwelling on every syllable as if testing its form in his mouth before uttering it aloud. He lets his gaze wander over the girl's shape as she perches on a seat.

"_Target approached by subject 14 – Mina Carrig – at 21 hours. Threat level estimate: delta. Relation to target: acquaintance."_

A mirthless smirk tugs at the lined corner of the elegant man's mouth as he observes a second figure - another woman - enter the scene. She is clothed in functional attire with bits and pieces of armour, though no discernible weapons about her person. The lower half of her face is obscured by a veil. As the women greet each other and converse, he leans back languidly, watching, running a hand through his graying, impeccably groomed hair.

"Ahh, the friend. She has made a friend. One to keep her company, to share her secrets, to comfort her when she feels alone…", his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Run another background check on the friend, this woman. Go a little deeper this time. Let us make sure you were correct in your assessment, droid. We don't want to risk our little bird singing the wrong song now, do we?"

His response is a series of whirring noises as requests are sent over the Holonet to access certain files.

"_Target approached by subject 15 – designation unknown – at 21:30. Threat level estimate: gamma. Relation to target: none."_

The newcomer, a man in casual clothing, face entirely hidden by a full helmet, approaches the pair, exchanging glances and chatter with them and another two patrons further behind him at the bar. Both women engage in conversation with him, though the girl seems hesitant, nervously glancing around the room as if seeking to escape. The other woman's expression is hidden by her veil, yet the course of the conversation becomes clear shortly, as the newcomer retreats to rejoin his cajoling friends, leaving the women to themselves.

"Fool.", he mutters, releasing a breath he hadn't noticed holding, then settling back into his chair to continue his scrutiny, running a well-manicured nail over the rich embroidery on the cuffs of his sleeve.

"_Target approached by subject 15 – designation: Zabrak, male – at 22 hours. Threat level estimate: gamma. Relation to target: none"_

Crimson flecked eyes narrow as the stranger – now sans helmet and identifiable by his horned head and tattoos – joins the two women in a second attempt to make conversation. This time, both women seem more open to his approach, even the girl loses some of her skittishness. The elegant man bares his teeth in a sneer, his half-closed eyes glinting dangerously, then snapping open abruptly as a fourth figure approaches the suddenly popular table.

"_Target approached by subject 12 – Lord Jirak – at 22:15. Threat level estimate: alpha. Relation to target: acquaintance."_

With a hiss of frustration, he watches a Sith Lord walk up to the girl and give a few curt commands while she bows and cowers, trembling. The Sith makes to leave, motioning for the girl to follow, but is intercepted by the Zabrak and his friends – two heavily armoured figures. One of them addresses the Lord with such blatant disregard for the latter's rank that it sets the elegant man's teeth on edge, then motions towards the door. While the elegant man looks on, the men exit the cantina, leaving the women behind. He allows himself a humourless chuckle.

"Close one. Who would have thought those meatheads would come in so handy?"

As he speaks, he watches the armoured men re-enter the room.

"I need a background check on those men. If they can run off a Sith Lord like that they may be of use at a late-"

He is cut off by sudden movement on the screen. The girl has jumped to her feet and is rushing to the door.

"_Target exits the premises at 22:30."_

"What is this?", his voice now laced with steel, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Where is she going? Replay me the last five minutes."

As he watches the scene a second time, his eyes darken with fury as suspicion becomes certainty. All but leaping from his chair, the elegant man crosses the room in a few long strides, barking orders.

"Run those background checks! Get me intel on subject 12! AND FIND THE GIRL!"

The door slams, the room darkens, suddenly silent, except for the soft whirring of a droid's running processes.


	2. Chapter 2

They came for her in the morning. The door to her small chamber slammed open, waking her from fitful sleep. One man stepped through, approaching her frozen form on the small pallet, the other blocked the doorway with his bulky frame. Rough hands pulled her to her feet. As her wrist was seized in an iron grip to lead her into the grey chill of dusk she thought back on Renki's words:

_"If you show them weakness, they will never stop. Your fear gives them power over you. You can free yourself."_

With effort, she calmed her breathing, willing her heart to stop racing. Her captor, mistaking her stillness for compliance, loosened his hold to allow her to walk without being dragged. She followed meekly. They boarded the taxi to the central plaza. If anywhere, her opportunity would come in the busy heart of Kaas City.

As they arrived at the plaza she bolted. Diving from the vehicle she ducked under the men's grasp, propelling herself forward and through their midst to emerge on the other side in a dead sprint. Breathless, legs pumping, she didn't dare look anywhere but forward as she sought to create distance between herself and her pursuers. A heartbeat later a heavy weight crashed into her side, sending her sprawling on the cold, damp concrete.

A meaty fist twisted itself into her hair and yanked her upwards to face the hunter's glower.

"Don't try to pull that stunt on us again, ya hear me?" he snarled, giving her a shake that made her teeth clamp shut.

Gasping in pain she went limp, not daring to provoke his ire any further. After another bone-rattling shake for good measure he let go, letting her slip from his grip. Her legs buckling she sank to the ground with a small whimper, earning a derisive sneer from the man standing over her. Wordlessly she scrambled to her feet, her gaze lowered.

"Better. Follow."

Numbly, she obeyed.


	3. Chapter 3

_She wasn't sure if she imagined or felt the assault of familiar sensations as she crossed the threshold. The creak of old floorboards as she padded on bare feet, the smells wafting over from the kitchen where the cook, her bulky form wreathed in sweat, soot and violence, prepared the meals for the day. The familiar feeling of inevitability as the door fell shut on the wilderness outside._

_She wasn't sure if she imagined or saw dull eyes in the shadows watching her advance up the stairs. Small, upturned faces observing and gauging the danger that accompanied each new arrival in this place. She wondered if there was recognition in any of them, if any of them realized she had once sat huddled among them._

_She wasn't sure if she imagined or sensed the brief hesitation of the men with her, as they approached the door of the Master's study. The exchange of glances before entering the dimly lit room, the release of tension as they stepped back and shut the door behind them after a low voice had issued a single command:_

"Leave us."

_Uncertainty dissipated as He turned His viper's glare on her. She sensed, she saw, she felt thin, long-fingered hands reaching for her. She shrieked._


	4. Chapter 4

_The world was dark.  
_  
Minutes stretched into eternity while she struggled with consciousness.

_Where was she?  
_  
Light, diffuse at first, then blindingly bright, slid piercing between her sleep-encrusted eyelids.

Slowly, her surroundings came into focus, though a blurry haze as if cast by a thin veil over her eyes prevented her from discerning more than vague shapes of anything not in her immediate vicinity. She rubbed her hand over her eyes, blinking away weariness as she looked down at herself. She had been clothed and bathed - she could smell the soap on her skin, pink from being scrubbed, and her nightshirt had been replaced with a fresh black robe, marking her as an acolyte of the Sith. She was lying on a small cot in a dimly lit room, the mattress hard but without lumps, the frame sturdy. A movement in the far corner caught her attention.

"Back with us, I see."

Fear threatened to still her heart at the sound of his voice. She froze, mind working to free itself from the sluggish mire her thoughts had become.

"I will continue my testing at another time, you have clearly not recovered from my last examination, though I am pleased to say that my efforts appear to have had an effect. You lasted far longer.", he continued, voice impassive.

"For now, I have questions. Who are these people?"

A holo-image flickered to life in the emptiness between them sending her gasping, both from the pain of the light's sudden assault on her eyes as from the sudden illumination of his features. Forcing her lids open for fear of the consequence of disobedience, she focused on the image, recognising the interior of The Nexus Room Cantina. She saw herself, sitting among familiar faces, realised that the capture was a recording of the previous night. She pointed to a figure.

"This is Mina. She is a friend. She… owns a ship.", she whispered, surprised at the feebleness of her own voice. The man in the corner waved a hand impatiently, dismissively. She ducked, continued.

"This woman, I met her last night. Her name is Kit. She was with another…"

Slowly, haltingly, she identified figures as their faces flicked by, captured in holo over the course of an eventful night. She gave as much information as she could, dared hold nothing back for fear of reprisal from the man opposite her. Only one piece of information she kept silent, secreted away: she never revealed what Darlon had told her about their efforts to free slaves.

As she spoke, she could not prevent her mind from conjuring up and reliving the events of the night. The terrifying volatile woman who had threatened her life not once, but twice over the course of the night. The loss of her friends in the hectic flight through Dromund Kaas. The relief at finding protection among the Blackscar. The soothing hands and voice of the doctor who treated her wound. The comfort of not being turned away after being discovered for what she was.

He listened, face neutral, mind – she knew – ever plotting, pushing pieces into place, planning. As she finished he kept quiet, letting the silence draw out and fill her with dread, anxious she may have said too little or too much. At length he rose, crossing the room to stand beside her quivering form and reached out a spidery hand to caress her face.

"Good. Rest. We will resume testing tomorrow. I will look into making travel arrangements for you."

With that he left her, with only her nightmares to keep her company.


	5. Chapter 5

She wakes to a roaring headache. Blinking at the paneled ceiling she lets the faint hum of Flux Glow's life support wash over her, letting her mind shake itself free from the vestiges of sleep as her senses slowly awaken. The air, processed through filtering systems, tastes dry, sharp and clean. Muted light paints vague shadows on the wall. The faint scent of machinery and chemicals drifts up from the ship's belly. Pinching the bridge of her nose she attempts to rise, promptly sinking back into her pillow with a yelp as the pain in her head mounts to a crescendo. Resigning herself to a slow morning, she closes her eyes. Once the pain has faded to a dull thrum, she listens for any sound from within the ship. None of her antics appear to have disturbed her fellow shipmates as nothing stirs in the adjoining cabins. She lets out a sigh, knuckling her forehead as her thoughts turn to her companions.

She hopes Kit and Herul made it to the ship alright. She and Mina had not seen the pair on their way back to the hangar bay and she had been too exhausted to wait up for long before Mina kindly but firmly shoved her towards her cabin, telling her to get some sleep. She considers taking a peek to check on them but is quickly discouraged by the risk of skull-splitting pain threatening to lance through her with every movement. She's also uncertain whether she wants to meet the fiery Mandalorian on a hangover. Judging by her own condition and the amount of empty glasses the woman had on her tray last night, Kit can't be doing too well this morning. She feels sympathy for the hapless Twi'lek in her company.

Herul. How odd it is to have a mirror held in front of oneself. Odd and humbling, as she sees some of the burdens she has laid on her friends with her actions. Not that she is free of her own fears, she concedes, but something about this journey and this place has changed her. It is as if by leaving Dromund Kaas she is able to breathe freely, perhaps for the first time in her life. The shadows of her past no longer loom, the long reach of her master seems less quick to grasp and hold her. Perhaps some if it can even be attributed to the Twi'lek himself, she considers. It is undoubtedly easier to be strong for another than to be strong for oneself. She will have to thank him for this lesson.

Wincing at the knives stabbing into her brain, she shifts to her side, pulling the covers over her eyes as the pain makes even the low light in the cabin unbearable. She makes a solemn promise to herself not to be too adventurous next time she orders a drink at a bar here. Her mind wanders to the night's crowd, attempting and failing to bring order into the jumble and chaos of the evening. She remembers vaguely speaking to a horn-headed woman Herul feared to be a Republic officer, who turned out to be merely a local patron. She also remembers with a flutter of panic the two Sith she had treated so irreverently, emboldened by Kit's belligerence. She hopes neither the young man with the mocking smile, nor the other with the cold eyes will remember her from that encounter.

With a grimace, she also remembers the Blackscar captain's assurance that the Sith he would contact would be no danger to her. She trusts Darlon's friends, but she can't say the same of the Sith and has enough memories of her previous sojourn at her master's estate, to wish to avoid going against his orders. She wills the dread back that is threatening to rise in her and opts to find a way to get out of bed instead, despite the wild protestations of her body. Muffled noises tell her she is not the only one awake anymore and she pads towards the cabin exit, hoping that whoever is up and about has a cure for her hangover.


	6. Chapter 6

Rainwater dripped from her sodden clothing as she wandered, threading her way through Kaas' still lively midnight streets. Her mud-spattered boots squelched wetly with each step, marking her passage through the metropolis in liquid footprints. She held her holocommunicator clasped in her left hand, cradling it at her breast as if it were a precious thing. She didn't dare think of the consequences of what she had just conveyed to Him.

She awaited them sitting on her pallet, hands folded in her lap. She had stowed her belongings in a corner of the room, carefully brushed out the mud from her robes and boots. She had dried and combed her hair, bound the unruly curls back with a thin strip of leather. As the door swung open she rose, following the men outside, who grunted their approval at her obedient display.

They arrived at the estate without incident, leading her straight to the Master's office in which he waited, standing with folded arms before the massive antique writing desk making up the room's centrepiece. He beckoned her forward until she stood but a hand's breadth from him, eyes downcast.

The backhand caught her unawares, snapping her head around and sending her stumbling back, ears ringing. She shut her eyes, lights dancing behind her lids like fireflies at dusk. She tasted blood in her mouth: her lip had split. His second swing knocked her from her feet, his beringed finger catching and tearing a gash into her cheek. She gasped in pain, her cheek already swelling, numbness beginning to spread. She sat up to a crouch, bowed her head and held her eyes on the jagged pattern of the wooden floor. Watching with some fascination as a small crimson pool formed where the cuts in her cheek and lip were spilling her blood in tiny droplets. She heard his steps thump on the floorboards as he strode towards her; imagined the pool of blood, like a perfect little ruby, shiver and shake as his strides set the ground quaking. As he halted she closed her eyes, awaited the killing blow. He didn't mark their faces unless he never planned for them to see another day.

It never came. He stood, looking down on her cowering at his feet, awaiting her death like a beast borne to slaughter. This creature he had moulded into a thing he could shape, control, even kill at whim, awaiting his judgment.

"You will not die here tonight." he said in a voice that was soft, almost gentle.

"You will live until I've torn the last secret from your flesh, until I've fully uncovered the extent of this gift of yours for myself. Until then you live."

He bared his teeth in a vicious smile, "Consider yourself lucky."

He turned, headed for the door, paused in the doorframe.

"Bring this message to Darth Feld: I do not tolerate cowardice among my followers and have taken it upon myself to see to the re-education of my wayward apprentice. I will endeavour to obey his wishes and am eager to meet at his earliest possible convenience, though I would ask his leniency as I have made travel plans for a project of some importance and delicacy. I extend my most humble apologies for this inconvenience and hope he will allow some delay until I can see to the most urgent arrangements."

"Deliver the message to Feld himself and come straight back to me. Do not delay, or you will regret it."

He left her where she was, his steps echoing down the hallway. He barked a command to the men waiting outside.

"Bring me a girl!"

The ruby had tripled in size.

Screams kept her awake till dawn.


	7. Chapter 7

The crisp morning air misted her breath as she emerged from the small place she and Mina had chosen to book rooms in for the night. Blinking the sleep from her eyes she glanced over her shoulder at the comparatively humble dwelling, its pristine walls and painted window frames. She shook her head. Everything here, from this small house – no more than a cabin, really – to the breathtaking vista of the snowcapped mountains on the horizon had an air of grandeur, a transient beauty she had yet to find elsewhere. Much of it stemmed from the planet's rich history, she mused, making her way along the paved walkway towards the slowly awakening market area. Alderaan had been a symbol for peace and stability throughout the decades, until the Sith invasion and the return of House Ulgo had shaken up the order of things, sending the other noble families reeling. Here however, in the quiet of morning, she could feel the solidity and weight that grounded this world in its past. The one in which citizens took the time to paint their window frames and tend their meticulously kept gardens.

She sighed, watching her breath plume and pulling her thick woolen cloak tighter around herself. Bright-eyed merchants were watching her approach with interest, eager to demonstrate the quality of their craft. She couldn't help but stop next to a clothing stall, brushing her hand along the fine silks rippling like water under her touch while she let the vendor drone on about the material's origin. She finally smiled her regrets, turning away from the finery and bought a warm pair of gloves to appease the trader. She had other business here. She found a number of stalls with the goods she wanted, browsing through datapads and holorecordings before purchasing a few, hoping that at least some of this information would be useful to her friend. As the sun crested the lowest mountain ridge and the remainder of the city starting shaking itself awake, she pocketed her new acquisitions and headed back.

She had to see a girl about a ghost.


	8. Chapter 8

_"Find your resolve or perish in emptiness."_

Liracen opened her eyes, stared unblinking at the ceiling. Sleep had not come, her harrowing thoughts giving her no respite. He was dead. She was free. Except that freedom did not exist for the likes of her. Immediately after her master's death, a new master had presented himself and she would be training under his tutelage and grow… or die.

She scowled. That wasn't fair. He'd taken her on as his apprentice for her sake. Without him, she'd likely have been sent to the academy or given to a different master. Better him than another, the chances of finding someone who would understand her as he did and not attempt to crush her were slim. Still. He'd been her friend, or close to it. Now they could no longer afford to be friends. Perhaps one day, when she'd grown stronger. _If_ she'd grow stronger.

She sighed and sat up, surveyed the small, familiar room adjoining His office at the Sanctum. Shivering, she hugged her arms around herself. Being in these rooms was eerie. It was as if they still existed under the premise that He was alive. She knew otherwise, had felt the pain of the bond being ruptured. The crazed struggle of consciousness battling for survival before simply giving up. And being snuffed out of existence. None of Him remained, save for the dead objects surrounding her. The cold mansion in the jungle that still haunted her dreams. The scars He had left on her soul.

"…_ perish in emptiness."_

Lord Kolph's words haunted her. Did she feel empty? No. Fear filled her being. Worry. Anxiety. She was scared of where her path would take her. Before, she'd known where everything would end. Once He'd unlocked her secrets, found another or simply decided she was not worth the effort He would have killed her. Until then she'd serve. By sticking to the rules, His rules, she would be in relative safety. Defer to Him. Serve Him. Obey. They were simple rules, a clear destination. Was it strange to feel comfort in that?

Now? Nothing was clear, nothing certain. There were no rules that she could see. She obeyed because it was all she knew how to do, but she wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do anymore. She couldn't see the end. Would she fail and die? Would she grow and thrive, only to lose herself? She rubbed her hand over her eyes. She'd finally discovered something she didn't want to give up: She had friends and cared deeply for them and they – miraculously – cared about her in turn. And now the path she'd been set on could cost her everything. She'd seen acolytes broken down and reshaped into what the Sith saw fit, in the name of power. She doubted that this was the fate Lord Kolph had chosen for her, but she knew sacrifices would have to be made. Would her friends understand?

The shrill blare of her holocomm tore her from her musings. A summons. Today her lessons would begin.

_"Find your resolve…" _


	9. Chapter 9

She turns the small cube, running her hands over its carved surface, her fingertips brushing the delicate inlay of colourful, faintly glowing crystals. Tracing a swirling pattern on its side, she finds an indenture, a hidden switch, then seeks and discovers its mirror on the opposite end. Exhaling in a slow smile, she sets the holocron down in front of her, flicking both switches gently to let it click open, the shimmer of a hologram and intensified glow from the crystals casting sharp shadows on her features.

Her pale complexion has taken on an ashen hue, dark rings circling her eyes, now in frantic motion as they seek to take in the knowledge hidden within the unassuming device before her. Her hair, damp and curling into wild, dark ringlets dripping water down her back, is frequently, impatiently brushed aside to combat its inclination to plaster itself to her face, impairing her vision. Behind her, in an adjacent room, steam billows from the small bath cabinet in the corner of the modest living quarters, forgotten and left to coat nearby surfaces in moisture, including her clothes and the hilt of her lightsaber, dropped and left in a pile on the floor after coming in from her early training.

She sits, her slim form wrapped in a towel at the large desk dominating the office, a security box containing a few holocrons and datadiscs to her right, several more piled in neat stacks to her left. As she twists a section of the now partitioned cube, the hologram flickers and changes, revealing further information that is quickly, yet thoroughly, scanned, fingers tapping on a datapad to earmark important sections and catalogue her findings. Minutes tick by as she works methodically, unwilling to overlook any potential source of learning despite the urgency of her task. Finally, she sits up with a sigh, knuckling her back and stretching her stiff limbs, as she places the object of her scrutiny in the appropriate pile to the left. Wiping at her eyes to keep the weariness at bay, she glances to another, larger holocron, sitting on its own in the centre of the desk.

She purses her lips, rises and steps past her discarded clothing to collect a fresh set of robes to slip on. She ties her hair back, struggling to tame it into a semblance of neatness before giving up and pinching the bridge of her nose, aching muscles protesting the strain of heavy exercise and the lack of rest she has allowed herself since the duel. Shaking her head clear of any further thought on the matter, she reassumes her place at the desk, reaching out to the central holocron with her mind rather than her hands. As the pyramid-shaped mechanism springs to life, bathing her in a red glow, and the voice of the guardian bids her welcome, she takes a deep breath, turning her gaze inwards.

_And the void gazes back._


End file.
